A Very Merthur October 2017
by Just-Sparks
Summary: A collection of drabbles and one shots centered around the pairing of Merlin and Arthur Pendragon. Rated M for possible later fics. Disclaimer: I own nothing.
1. The Sword In The Pumpkin

"Arthur, are you alright?" Merlin promptly called out after he had heard strange noises coming from the living room.

Seconds later, as he sauntered that way reluctantly, he braced himself for a number of different instances to be met with as he entered the main shared space of his and Arthur's flat. The former king had been back a few weeks shy of a year, so it was not uncommon for him to engage in an array of activities which he had learned about in that time. In his wildest imaginings in the recesses of his mind, however, Merlin had not been prepared for what he actually found.

The first object he noticed when he entered the room was a large, orange pumpkin, placed on their coffee table. Behind the table was Arthur, and beyond him, their couch had been pushed back further away from its normal resting place. At the sorcerer's appearance, Arthur glanced up. His eyes were alight with mischief, and a grin spread across his face to match the twinkling within his cerulean irises. This would have stolen Merlin's breath away, had he not noticed the gleaming sword within the blond's grasp.

"Arthur," Merlin began, purposely drawing out each syllable.

"What? I finally found a use for a sword in this century," Arthur stated nonchalantly, his amusement at his task not diluted in the slightest.

While the former king continued to hack away at the poor vegetable, in hopes that it might become a Jack-O-Lantern, Merlin dropped his head into his hands and laughed himself silly.


	2. Apple of My Eye

Arthur Pendragon could not feel more out of place if he tried. His sister Morgana had insisted that he attend her latest party, of which, there were many. Normally, he avoided the festivities like the plague, mostly because he never knew a single soul there, except her best friend Gwen Smith. This time, however, he had allowed her coercion to break through his steadfast rule of steering clear of them all together.

Deep within him, he had a niggling suspicion that perhaps something spectacular could happen. Although not one to put much faith in superstition, the persistent thought would not leave him, no matter what else he tried to think of. For that reason alone, he allowed her to convince him to bring a package of red plastic cups, as well as himself dressed in casual attire to her doorstep. When the door swung open, he was met with Gwen, who gave him a polite smile, before calling back to alert Morgana that he had arrived.

As he stepped over the threshold of his sister's two bedroom cottage home, which took up space in a small wooded area at the outer edges of London, he was met with various scents permeating his nose. Behind him, Gwen closed the door, and began chattering away.

"It's nice of you to come. Morgana and I were just discussing whether or not we'd have to go make a run for cups, should you not show up. Of course, she planned ahead, in case you chose not to come, but I'm glad you did."

Hardly registering what Gwen was saying, despite the expectant looks she shot towards him, Arthur surveyed his immediate surroundings. He had never witnessed his sister's home before a party, except back when she had first purchased the home. Subtlety had never been Morgana's strong suit, by any means. However, it seemed while she may not exercise it much in her personality or her wardrobe, she definitely had whilst decorating for the impending fête.

Opposite of the front door, a long table is covered with a variety of Halloween inspired treats, which someone had taken the time to put together. If Gwen's presence was anything to go by, she and Morgana would have been at it for a while. He knew that they could plan a party well enough on their own. After all, that is what she and Gwen had gone into business for, after they had both graduated Uni with their separate degrees. On the side, the best friends had begun the party planning business, which was met with mild success if one were being modest.

Caught up in his appraisal of the room around him, Arthur was surprised when he felt a balloon collide his face. Jumping back immediately, he lost his grip of the cups within his grasp in the process. Once he had regained his balance, the blond looked around wildly for the source of his frustration. Blocked from his vision by a wall of balloons, Arthur spied long masculine fingers holding onto the monstrosity, attempting to tame the cornucopia of plastic air filled containers within his grasp.

Before Arthur could spout out his indignation, he heard a deep male voice utter, "Shit!"

Morgana's voice filtered from her kitchen, "Merlin, do try not to injure yourself or others."

A groan of frustration exited the unknown man's lips, before the voice called back, "Bugger off, Morgana."

Unsure of whether or not to offer assistance, Arthur is saved the trouble of deciding, when Merlin moved the balloons to the side, revealing he had in fact collided with a person. When his sapphire blue eyes met the azure ones standing before him, Arthur became suddenly aware that he was being stared at.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry. I thought you were the bloody couch," the man named Merlin exclaimed not long after.

Gwen, who had expected Arthur to remain a pillar of annoyed indifference, watched on with curiosity as his face breaks out into a genuine grin for the first time since he had stepped into the house. He found he was surprised by this as well, but his expression didn't betray his inner thoughts.

"It happens, mate. If anyone should feel sorry though, it probably should be me. I can only imagine what could have gotten you in this mess in the first place. My sister is not one to enlist just anyone's help," Arthur explained as he picked up the package of cups he had dropped a minute before, then moving to place them on the table not far from them.

"Sister? You must be Arthur then," Merlin replied, his eyes taking on a slightly different quality than before.

If Arthur were the assuming kind, he would say that he had suddenly garnered the attention of his newest acquaintance for an entirely different reason other than mere familial connections. However, he had always felt assuming did more harm than good, especially if one were to be wrong. Pursing his lips, he wondered what Morgana could have possibly told this stranger about him.

"Whatever Morgana's told you is-"

"Spot on. Arthur would you be a dear and help Merlin with these balloons? I fear he might actually injure himself putting them up without your help. I would ask Gwen, but she's a good bit shorter than either of you," Morgana voiced as she walked into the living room.

Glancing from his sister to Merlin, Arthur found himself agreeing before he had much of a chance to analyze the situation further. Trailing the lanky man, the younger Pendragon sibling kept the balloons from colliding with anything else in the room. Smirking, Morgana watched with pleasure as she witnessed the pair working together, while Gwen seemed to be slightly flabbergasted. In the time she had known Arthur, which was longer than most, he had never willingly agreed to help with anything that his sister clearly wanted, without bickering with her about it first at least.

When the doorbell rang out again, Gwen tore herself away from watching Arthur and Merlin, reluctantly. Walking toward the door, she opened it, and found herself face to face with an unknown man.

"Hello, is this Morgana's Halloween party?" the man asked, his brown eyes never leaving her face.

A blush crept up onto her cheeks involuntarily as she grasped for words. That is, until Morgana came to her aid.

"Lance! I'm so glad you could make it. Arthur is going to be thrilled that there's at least one person he knows here. Come on in!" she invited, as she had slid up to Gwen's side.

Smiling politely, Gwen stepped aside to allow the newest arrival to step over the threshold. Lance's eyes lingered on hers kindly, before treading past her, his arms laden with bags of salty snacks. After he dropped his contribution to the festivities, Lance found his childhood best mate beside him, grinning at his arrival.

"It's good to see you, Arthur," Lance declared, before he embraced the aforementioned man in a brief hug.

When they stepped away from each other, Arthur responded, "You too. I didn't know you were coming. Morgana never mentioned."

"That would be my doing. I asked her to keep it under wraps until I arrived," Lance admitted, before his eyes slid past Arthur towards Merlin.

Lifting a hand, Lance waved at the lanky man behind Arthur, who gave him a warm smile and wave in return. At the gesture, Arthur eyed Lance carefully.

"You know Merlin?" he asked, his voice having gone down a few notches so that only Lance was able to hear him.

"Yes. He and I both were in the same classes at Uni. He's in the medical field as well. Did Morgana not introduce the two of you yet?"

"Not formally, no. I was under the impression he was more of her lackey, what with him helping her with the decorations and all."

Lance chuckled, then replied, "That's Merlin for you. He'll help anyone if he can. You wouldn't know it, but he's one of the brightest minds this side of London. He put myself and our other classmates to shame a good bit of the time we attended school together. That is, when he could arrive on time. The man seems to be unaware that the conception of time exists."

Taking in the new information, Arthur continued to watch Merlin with slightly more interest now.

"He sounds like the decent sort. My only question is, if he's so smart, why on earth would he willingly associate with my harpy of a sister?" Arthur joked, which earned him a slap not seconds later.

Apparently he hadn't been nearly as quiet as he thought.

"Contrary to your belief, Arthur, I do have friends who enjoy my company," Morgana retorted, with no real heat.

Despite his protestations, he and Morgana had been fairly close for the duration of their lives. Each having different mothers, both of whom had died early on, brought them together. Uther, their father, far too caught up in his work to give them the time of day, was another factor that contributed to their closeness. Though they bickered, as most siblings do, the familiarity with each other lent them to be closer than most. In regards towards family, they were nearly all each other had.

"More like minions who've been bribed," he retorted, which received a scoff.

Before a reply can be made however, the doorbell rings once again, signalling that more guests have appeared.

An hour later, the party is in full swing, with at least twenty people or more filling the small home. Arthur had lost count after about the fifteenth person entered. Feeling the odd man out, he chose to nonchalantly cling to Lance's side, as he was one of three people there which he knew quite well. Otherwise, everyone around him were complete strangers. Merlin, of course, was the exception.

After Lance's explanation of him, Arthur found that his eyes were drawn towards the man even more. Contrary to what Lance had said, the blond still had his suspicions about Merlin. For one, he simply did not seem to stand still for more than a minute, which most would attribute towards his profession, as those in the medical field rarely had a chance to sit while on the clock. Arthur, of course, saw it as an annoyance, if nothing else. For two, he seemed to smile at just about everybody, which was unnatural, even for someone as sweet as Gwen. For three, as soon as they had finished with the balloons, Merlin refused to look Arthur in the eyes. It did not take long for him to ascertain that for whatever reason, he was being avoided.

It was not until two hours after his arrival that Arthur came into close proximity with the dark haired man again. Hushed voices caught the Arthur's attention, just outside of the kitchen, which caused him to stop where he stood. Owing to the fact that the music out in the living room was so loud, he could hardly glean much more than a few words here and there. However, after multiple minutes of standing there, he was sure that the two speaking in the shut up room were definitely Merlin and Morgana.

Up until now, Arthur had considered a variety of reasons why Merlin had been at the house seemingly for a good stretch of time before he had showed up. None of them had touched on the idea of the man being involved with his sister, until now. Perhaps, he mused, that was why Morgana had been a bit more insistent than normal that he attend her annual Halloween party; she wished to introduce her new boyfriend.

All too soon, before his thoughts can go any further, someone bursted through the shuttered double doors. Thrown back out of view of whoever had exited, Arthur witnessed Morgana step out into the living room. Moving to where he could better hear her, he found himself drawn forward, putting himself in the view of anyone in the kitchen. Sure enough, when he looked over, Merlin was piddling about refilling chip bowls as if he owned the place. As if he felt himself being stared at, Merlin looked up and swiftly glanced away from Arthur the second he noticed him.

Having half a mind to speak with him, Arthur made to move that way, until Morgana's voice brushed away that thought with the simple phrase, "Let the games begin."

Moments later, he felt her small hands latch onto his left arm, pulling him in the direction of the living room.

"You too, Merlin," she called airly behind her as she led Arthur into the populated area of her home.

With the help of Lance, Gwen had drug out a huge water trough to the center of the room, filled with water and apples.

"Alright everyone. We're all adults here. This game is going to be a twist on the classic bobbing for apples. Think spin the bottle Halloween style. On the bottom of each one, there will be a color. There are only two of every kind, so whoever has the same color as you, will be the person you have to kiss once everyone has an apple. Keeping up with tradition, my younger brother Arthur will go first!"

Involuntarily, he glanced around the room and noticed that Merlin looked a bit green in the face. While everyone else seemed to have no problem with this, Arthur and Merlin both balked at the idea. Glancing back at Morgana, who had been looking towards Merlin too, Arthur wondered what was going on. Even before he noticed the self-satisfied smirk on her face, he was entirely certain that she was up to something.

"Morgana," he hissed, just loud enough for her to hear.

"Trust me, little brother, you'll thank me later," she assured, only loud enough for him to hear.

Arthur snorted at the idea, but after being put in the spotlight, he knew that he wouldn't back down. Although he had nothing to prove, the blond went forward anyways, even allowing Morgana to hold his hands behind his back as he dipped his head down towards the water. A minute or so later, as everyone watched on, he sunk his teeth into one. Bringing himself back to his feet, he was met with polite clapping as a smirk of his own firmly etched itself into his face.

One by one, everyone went. Some took longer than others, and soon enough, everyone had an apple. When Morgana instructed, everyone looked at the bottom of their fruit, and began pairing up. As people milled about, Arthur happened to catch sight of the bottom of Merlin's apple, noticing with a gut dropping feeling that they had been paired up. When the lanky man noticed Arthur's reaction, he too looked as if he had bitten into a lemon.

Sidling up to his side, Arthur coughed awkwardly.

"So, uh, should we just get this over with?" Arthur suggested as he shuffled his feet to and fro awkwardly.

"Right, of course," came the reply.

Chucking the apple onto an arm chair nearby, Arthur turned to face Merlin, who seemed more nervous than even he. With precise movements though, despite his obvious unease, the raven haired man moved forward. When his face was close enough that there were mere inches between them, Merlin reached up and placed his hands tenderly on either side of Arthur's face, while the blond remained transfixed by the dark blue eyes that were a breath from him.

"Is this okay?" Merlin murmured, his voice shaky, despite his steady gaze.

"Yes," Arthur breathed, as he reached up to lock his hands around Merlin's neck, realizing that the man in front of him was slightly taller.

A few heartbeats later, Arthur felt soft lips and stubble pressed against his face tentatively. Having prepared for it, he responds by putting pressure against them. For a moment he wonders how long they would have to do this before Morgana would deem it having been enough. However, with each second that ticked by, he worried less about that, and more about the warmth that was building up inside of him with every passing moment.

Soon, the world fell away, and Arthur no longer felt present in the room. Rather, he felt as if he had found what it seemed he didn't even know he was searching for all along. Memories bombarded his mind, as if they were reminding him that they were there, just lying beneath the surface of his awareness. With each breath he took, the part of himself that he had never quite understood, made more sense than ever.

When he opened his eyes, the man whom had been a stranger to him minutes before, was no longer that. Breaking into a large grin, he pulled himself as close to the man as physically possible, whilst sighing deeply into the embrace, "Merlin."

"I've missed you, too, clotpole," the sorcerer mumbled softly, holding on just as tightly, as he buried his head into Arthur's shoulder.

Perhaps, Arthur thought, this hadn't been the worst Halloween party ever.


	3. Half Baked Hijinx

Merlin was baking, that much Arthur was absolutely certain of the second he woke up in their bed, one October morning. The faint glow of the barely risen sun lit up their room and blinded him momentarily, before he sat up out of its reach. As he rubbed his eyes, the scents that had filtered up under their bedroom door and into his nostrils, became even more noticeable. At this point in time, it had been a little over a year since the new couple had upended their lives from London, in favor of residing on a small plot of land nestled in the Chiltern Hills, about an hour to the northwest of the large city. Since then they had settled into a routine. One that Arthur had become so accustomed to that the mere idea of Merlin baking just did not fit into it.

Rising from their simple mahogany platform bed with sock clad feet and a bare chest, Arthur made his way to where their much more spacious kitchen stood. He trudged forward slowly, rubbing the crud from his eyes as he went, whilst inhaling the scents that he had become accustomed to associating with modern Autumns. As his eyes became more aware of their surroundings, the blond was able to make out the form of his husband, Merlin, puttering about in the kitchen, as he fretted over his latest batch of what smelled like snickerdoodle cookies.

"Goodmorning," Arthur crooned, when he was all but a few steps away from the sorcerer.

Merlin jerked comically about, attempting to hide his sudden nervousness. In his effort to do so, he nearly dropped the tray within his grasp, which held an array of differently shaped cookies. He threw a sour look towards Arthur, after placing the baking sheet down on a counter parallel to him.

"You prat. Was that entirely necessary?" he queried, before muttering a bit of nonsense to himself.

Chuckling, Arthur walked towards their fridge and procured a protein shake from it, before shutting it in his wake.

"For someone who evaded capture on a near daily basis some centuries ago, it amazes me how pitiful your senses are," the shorter of the two stated, reaching for a cookie in between sips, only to have his hand simultaneously smacked.

"Ohhhhhhh, no. These are not for you, clotpole. I've been working on these all morning for the elderly and staff of a nearby nursing home. Unless you want me at this much longer, I suggest you back away from the baked goods, and find yourself a proper breakfast."

Slightly affronted, Arthur responded with, "Oh how I miss the days when it was legal to order you to give me something."

"Don't be such a git. I can bake for you anytime," Merlin retorted, before turning his back on Arthur so he could return to his task.

The blond pouted behind his husband, but relented for the moment. He then spun around and made as if he planned to leave the room. Once content that Merlin's attention had been diverted, he snuck a quick cookie off of a nearby plate when the warlock's back was turned. Treat in hand, he strode out of the room back towards their bedroom. Smirking, he bent his head down to take his first bite, only to find that the cookie he had taken was no longer that, but a banana.

Pulling a face of unamusement, Arthur turned around and threw the piece of fruit at the farthest wall opposite of him, which elicited a faint chuckle from Merlin a few seconds later after impact. Slightly disgruntled that his plan had failed, the sturdily built man stalked out of the room.

Hours later, after arriving home from his nightly run, Arthur stumbled into their room with the intent of taking a long, hot shower before bed. Merlin had been called into his clinic a few hours before on an emergency situation, which left him alone effectively for an indefinite amount of time. Before he was able to properly wash away the grime from his body post workout, a small sack lying at the foot of the bed caught his eye on the way to their master bath.

Plucking it up from where it sat, Arthur found a note attached to the packaging, which drew his attention more so than what could have been in the gift bag. Flipping it open, he found Merlin's rushed scrawl on the little note card, barely legible to anyone but him. Quickly, he scanned the note, and then ended up laughing to himself just a bit as he placed the note within the bag, leaving it and the contents otherwise untouched for the time being.

Later, as he sat reading a book in bed, waiting for Merlin to come home, he munched on the treats that his husband had left with him.


	4. This Samhain

It had been two years since Guinevere had removed herself from the citadel of Camelot, following Sir Lancelot's untimely departure from the world of the living. At first, she thought that she could handle the grief alongside her brother and Arthur, as well as their friends around them. However, it became apparent very quickly that she had been wrong. A few days after he had perished, she left the whole of Camelot behind on a horse which Arthur had generously supplied in his own grief.

Two years, her mind reminded her, as she spied the spires and turrets around the castle. As she inhaled the air around her deeply, she pressed forward on the two year anniversary of Lancelot's death; it was Samhain once more.

The first person she spotted when she walked through the large gates was Sir Leon. He and a squire were in conversation on the front steps, until he spied her, and broke away from it all together.

"Guinevere!" he shouted, striding forward in a quick gait.

"Leon!" she responded, quickening her pace.

Catching her in a strong embrace, the lead Knight held her there for a moment, before unclasping his hands from her.

"How are you, Gwen?" he asked, the familiar worry on his face of someone who had known her since she was a young girl.

"I'm well. Much better than before, I do believe," she replied.

"I'm glad to hear it. Have you arrived for a visit, or do you plan to remain here longer?" he asked, his eyes suddenly searching her warily.

"I suppose I'll have to speak to Arthur about that. Where might I find him?" she asked, leveling an assessing gaze towards her longtime friend.

Coughing into his hand, Leon nodded towards the castle.

"I believe you'll find him in his chambers, getting ready for the banquet tonight."

Although an ordinary statement in itself, the way in which Leon said it has something akin to doubt slithering down her back. Still, she nodded and continued on with her plan.

"Thank you, Sir Leon. I hope to see you around," she said in farewell, before taking off on her way towards the King's chambers.

All throughout the castle she had been met with friendly smiles, or slight glances of disbelief, quickly covered over by feigned grins and amiable greetings. The feeling that she had first felt with Leon persisted, needling her throughout her journey towards Arthur's quarters. Something, she realized, had definitely changed.

Once she had finally reached the guards outside of the now King's chambers, the biggest clue of all presented itself, without her even taking notice. When she nodded at the guards, they leaned their spears sideways to block her path. Stepping back, she glanced between them, her expression demanding to know why she had been denied entrance.

"The King has requested that he not be disturbed at this time," the one on her right declared, his eyes almost smirking, if she were truly paying him any mind.

"Alright. I'll just wait right here then," she huffed in indignation.

The one to the left shot a furtive look to his companion, before he relayed, "It could be a while, miss."

Had she not been caught up in the fact that it was her first day back, and all she wanted to do was see Arthur, Gwen would have caught onto the nuance in his statement. Unfortunately, seeing as how she had not, the woman merely nodded and walked a ways down, before she slid down to the floor.

Shaking their heads, the guards remained there, while she occupied her space on the ground for the time being.

Hours later, Arthur emerged, with Merlin dutifully at his side. As she stood up and brushed herself off, Merlin had begun fussing over the King's collar. While she had eyes only for Arthur, she noticed curiously that he had yet to take any interest in her. His gaze rested fondly on his manservant, as he allowed the man to adjust his collar.

As she watched, and it became apparent that Arthur still had yet to become aware of her presence, she cleared her throat. Unlike when she thought of this moment before she drifted into sleep, her heart's desire did not bound forward, as she assumed he would. Instead, he stood there, unconsciously moving towards Merlin just a tad bit more. This too, she hardly noticed, as her sole focus was on the fact that rather than pleased to see her, Arthur seemed disappointed.

"Guinevere," Arthur choked out a minute later, regretfully pulling away from Merlin in favor of going for a chaste embrace with his former love interest.

"Hello Arthur, it's good to see you," she said, as he moved forward to her.

When he bent down, he offered her a brief embrace, but immediately stood back closer to where he had been. If she was offended, Guinevere did not allow her emotions to betray her, except in her eyes. The hurt, Merlin noticed with a bit more glee than he should have, was apparent.

"I'd love to stay and talk, but we were just headed down to the feast," Arthur informed, as an awkward smile implanted itself on his face.

At this, Gwen glanced between both Arthur and Merlin, noticing for the first time that Merlin held his expressions together with a tight lipped smile. Had he and Arthur been having a row, she wondered? It was not exactly uncommon before, but this she felt, might not have been the case. After all, up until they had both taken notice of her, the two seemed blissfully unaware of anything else. Her mind hovered over this for a moment before she declared, "Of course. We can catch up later. It was good to see you both."

"And you," Arthur replied, before the two men set off towards the Great Hall in haste.

In their wake, Guinevere stood there watching them stride away, their shoulders now tense but very near to touching as they continued on.

Throughout the feast, Guinevere was seated beside her brother Elyan, and treated as a guest, per Arthur's orders. Her brother, whom she had yet to interact with until then, was just as surprised to see her. After the King's speech, and everybody had begun to eat, Gwen asked after the latest happenings within the castle. At this, Elyan's mouth had quivered slightly, but he otherwise remained undeterred.

"As you know, the late King Uther passed on, leaving the throne open for Arthur to take his place. Agravaine was found to be a traitor about a year ago, as he was in league with Morgana. Morgana since has been at a loss for what to do, as she has lost her biggest ally in Camelot, and has yet to succeed in any of her other attempts to unseat Arthur."

"That's good," she nodded, as she slurped down a bit of broth down her throat.

"We all believe she's been planning something, but we're not sure what exactly. Everyone has their theories, but until Sir Gwaine and Sir Percival return from the North, we are left largely unaware as to what," Elyan relayed through bites of his own meal.

"I see," Guinevere tossed out, then threw a glance up at the head of the table.

Her hope at catching even a smile from Arthur diminished when she spied he and Merlin discussing something very closely. The King, she observed, was leaning into Merlin's personal space, just as Merlin likewise had inclined his body toward the other's. Unlike earlier, when she had spoken with them, their shoulders were relaxed as they spoke. Out of the corner of her peripheral vision, she noticed that Leon was looking in her direction, a small frown on his face. This made her uncomfortable enough to drop her eyes back to her plate, slightly baffled at the reception she had received so far.

Hours later, when the meal had been closed, Gwen's spirits renewed. Now, she thought to herself, this was her chance. The King had dismissed the entirety of the hall, then began retreating towards his own chambers, Merlin at his side once again. Trailing behind the pair, Gwen called after him. Once again, she noticed the mens' shoulders tense. Ignoring that, she stepped forward to the two stagnant people before her.

"Arthur, I wondered if I might have a word with you, before you tuck in for the night?" she chanced, despite everything within her mind screaming at her to shut it.

Pursing his lips a bit, Arthur considered, before responding, "Guinevere it has been a long day for all of us. Perhaps we could converse tomorrow, after a good night's rest?"

Thrown off by the suggestion, Gwen nodded numbly, with a smile climbing onto her face that did not altogether reach her eyes.

"Of course, yes. Forgive me, I was so wound up that I seemed to forget not everyone has my boundless energy today."

"Fear not. You've done no harm by asking. I'll see to it that a chambermaid sets up a proper room for you for the evening, if there's nothing else," he said, the dismissal apparent in his tone.

She nodded, tears threatening to prick to the forefront of her eyes.

"Thank you, Sire. That is most gracious of you."

"It's no trouble at all, really," he responded, his eyes already travelling past her to hail a stray servant.

If Gwen had looked up and noticed the strange delight in Merlin's otherwise drawn expression of feigned indifference, she gave no hint of this. When the pair strode away, she found herself wondering what she could have done to make Arthur regard her as if she was nothing more than another citizen of Camelot.

After a restful sleep, Gwen's spirits had risen greatly once again. When the sun peeked out over the horizon, she was up and readying herself for the day. As she spied herself in the mirror, she smiled, hoping that all she had witnessed last night was merely imagined. She had, as she reminded herself, been exhausted from travel the night before. With this thought in mind, she set out for Arthur's chambers not long after the sun had risen to one of the lowest points in the sky, above the horizon.

Whispers swirled around her as she made her way there quickly. Paying them no heed, as she oft didn't, she arrived there easily enough. The guards merely raised an eyebrow at her flushed face, when she stood before them, but allowed her to pass nonetheless. Knocking, she her an audible groan, but chose to ignore it.

"Arthur, it's me, Gwen," she called out, hoping this would change his mood.

Pressing her ear to the door, she heard mumblings, presumably between he and Merlin. This surprised her just a bit, but she worried little, still. After waiting for a few minutes, without receiving the go head to enter, she began to become slightly puzzled. Before she had time to properly think over it though, Arthur's voice boomed, "Come in."

Entering swiftly after, she found Merlin just then drawing the curtains, and him in a shirt that looked slightly rumpled. When the lanky man turned to face where she had entered, an air of annoyance was about him, which threw her off. His gaze shifted from her towards Arthur, who seemed to be fully dressing himself on his own. Not for the first time, she wondered what on earth she had stumbled upon. Then again, as she reminded herself, Merlin and Arthur's dynamic had always been different than that of most servants and masters ever had been.

"Merlin, go retrieve three breakfasts from the kitchen," Arthur dispatched, which earned a murderous look from the manservant.

"Yes, Sire," he responded tartly, heavily laying emphasis on the last word.

As Merlin exited briskly, she moved to an open seat that Arthur indicated by pulling it out for her. When he placed himself on the opposite side of the desk at which they both sat, his eyes lingered behind her on his door, before he properly looked at her for the first time since she had arrived.

"So Guinevere, what brings you back to Camelot?" he queried brusquely.

Although not entirely unexpected, especially after the way she had left, the statesmanlike manner indeed does throw her off guard when it is directed at her. Gulping, she sat up straighter.

"I've had a good bit of time to deal with Lancelot's passing. It was a blow that I had not anticipated, and I regret that I could not stay here whilst recovering from it. He was a good man, and at one time, very dear to me. I'm sorry for what I put you through, and for how I left. I've missed you, Arthur," she stated boldly, reaching out her right hand across the table for him to grasp.

Before he can contemplate it though, Merlin returned, his arms laden with three plates. At the man's entrance, Gwen watched as the hesitant expression on the King's face morphed into a happier expression, his eyes creased with a tinge of guilt as well. Feeling a bit of a fool, Guinevere withdrew her hand. As Merlin placed their plates down, he lingered over Arthur, almost as if he planned to lean down for whatever reason, but then thought better of it.

A pained expression entered Arthur's eyes, but quickly dispersed when he bid it to. Dropping her head down to her meal, the curly haired woman becomes keenly interested in it, rather than what is going on around her.

After the botched attempt at speaking with Arthur before, Gwen kept her distance from the King. Something in his reaction had warranted further introspection, she concurred. Although she had anticipated him to be hurt over her actions, despite his insistence before that he understood, there was something else in his responses that seemed measured in a way they hadn't been before. It was almost as if he were biting his tongue, but refused to let her in on the secret that Merlin was apparently privy to.

That was the other part that baffled her. She and Merlin had been friends for years. Although their camaraderie had waned with time, especially as she and Arthur had gotten closer, the two had always been within each other's good graces. Since she had returned, however, he had seemed quite a bit colder to her than before.

The first day, she had let it slide off her back, because she would have been borderline narcissistic if she were to assume that he was angry at her for simply materializing before him. A number of things could have occurred before she stepped foot into Camelot that could have contributed to his unusually rigid mannerisms; the foremost being Arthur. However, the morning she had just spent with both he and the King had her thinking to the contrary.

As she walked, her mind mulled over the subject. The tittering of young girls a ways in front of her caught her attention when she heard her name. She paused and then moved against the wall parallel to her, before she listened intently to the voices that filtered out of the open doorway and into the corridor, not two feet from her.

"Well, what would you do if you'd been bedding the King? I can't imagine you'd be too happy either," said a small, shrill voice.

"Just bedding the King? I think it's a bit more than that, and you both know it," replied an older, rougher female voice.

As if she had been struck in the face, Gwen recoiled. Quietly, she slipped away from where she had been, making certain she had not been seen or heard. When she ran out into the light of day, her heart felt anything but.

"How could I have been so stupid?" she chastised herself aloud, tears now breaking free of the hold she'd kept on them.

Weeping to herself, her mind berated herself relentlessly. Of course Arthur had fallen for someone else. She had been absent for two years. That was a long time to hold onto a feeling for another who had easily dismissed him once her first love had perished.

The sound of male voices made her put on a brave face as she wiped away the perspiration that had been trailing down her skin. Gwen took a deep breath, and steeled herself to face the rest of the day.

Later the very same day, around the midday meal, Gwen found herself walking towards the armory. Arthur had been training the knights, and so he would need help taking off his armor for polishing. She figured this would be as good a time as any to talk. However, a hand grasped her elbow, which made her stop before she reached her destination.

When she glanced up, she found her brother looking down at her sternly.

"Guinevere," he sighed, before he dropped his hold.

"Elyan, what-"

"I've tried to keep my silence. We all have. I fear though that if I do not tell you, then you'll find out the hard way," he cut her off, a weariness to his tone that she had not noticed before.

"That Arthur's in love with someone else?" she tossed out, with it coming out more sadly than she had meant for it to.

"Gwen, you've been away for over two years. The King was heartbroken by the loss of Sir Lancelot, then your's, and eventually his own father's. He took each one with such a melancholy that we worried whether or not he would fully recover. Were it not for-

"Elyan, I'm not angry. I understand the situation he was in. I'm under no delusion that he has any responsibility towards me. I just want to speak with him," she stated, before attempting to step forward.

"Which you may do, but not now," Elyan relayed, a with a bit more emphasis.

"Why is that, exactly?" Guinevere demanded, more than a bit peeved now.

"He will not want to be bothered right now, Gwen, believe me."

The former servant bit her lip, throwing a glance over to where the armory stood.

"She's in there with him, isn't she?"

Dipping his head down, Elyan inhaled a deep breath, before returning his gaze to her's.

"You really don't know, do you?" he asked, a bit surprised.

"Know what, Elyan?" she urged, willing him to say what seemed to be on the tips of everyone's tongues.

Before he could speak, footsteps sounded on the ground behind him, revealing Arthur and Merlin both stepping out of the room, easy grins upon their faces.

Oh.

All of the pieces that hadn't made sense to her before, did right then. Arthur was in love with Merlin. She really was a fool not to have seen that coming, she decided. When the pair spied her, their previous happiness seeped away, and once again Merlin looked to the King for his reaction. The imperceptible glance to one who was not watching for it, wouldn't have meant anything. To her, it only confirmed what she now knew to be true; the affections that Arthur held for Merlin were returned in equal measure.

Ignoring the guards outside of Arthur's chambers in the evening, Guinevere knocked on his door once more.

"Who is it?" Arthur requested.

"It's me, Guinevere," she responded.

"Come in, Gwen," came the reply, a few seconds later.

When she walked in, Arthur was seated at his personal dining table, where a second place was set as well. At her entrance, Merlin didn't move, but rather dropped his face down towards his plate. At least until the King nudged him. Scowling, Merlin jumped to his feet, and offered Guinevere a place at the table.

Waving a dismissive hand in the air, Gwen shook her head.

"There's no need," she relayed, glancing between the pair of them. "I've come to say goodbye."

"You're leaving?" Arthur queried, rather indignantly.

That was the strongest reaction she had garnered from him so far, if she were being honest.

"I am. It has been wonderful to see everyone, but I have been made aware that Camelot castle is no place for me any longer. I appreciate the generosity you've shown me in the time I've been here, but it is high time that I take my leave."

"Where will you go?" Arthur asked, his face now more relieved than anything else.

This furthered Gwen's belief that she had made the right decision.

"Not far. I think I'll reside in my childhood home down in the lower town, and work to open up my father's shop again."

"Guinevere," Arthur began, but she swiftly cut him off.

"I'm glad that you've found happiness, Arthur. I hope that you continue to appreciate it for what it is, because you of all people deserve the love you've found," she assured.

As if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, Arthur allowed a smile to grace his features.

"Thank you, Gwen," he said, before he caught Merlin's gaze beside her.

She looked over, noting the soft smile he directed at the King, before giving her a reluctant one of his own afterwards. Relief had flooded his eyes in the time that she had been speaking.

Echoing Arthur's sentiments, Merlin stated a bit more emphatically, "Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Now, I shall leave you both to your meal, and retire for the remainder of the evening. Tomorrow, I'll be on my way. Again, thank you for everything, Arthur."

Merlin followed her as she walked towards the threshold of the royal chambers. When they had reached it, she turned and said more softly, "I'm sorry if I've caused you any undo stress. You're a good man, Merlin. I truly meant what I said before. You both deserve the happiness that you've found with each other."

"Take care, Gwen," Merlin bid warmly, opening the door for her.

Guinevere glanced back one last time, catching Arthur watching them both intently.

Flicking her gaze back up to Merlin, she whispered, "Take care of him, Merlin."

Merlin nodded solemnly, before replying earnestly, "Always."

Content with the way the previous events had transpired, she picked up her skirts, and took her leave. Whilst she made her way down the torch lit corridors, she mused that perhaps the Druids hadn't been wrong to revere Samhain as a time for new beginnings.


	5. From This Hallowed Ground

Fallen leaves crunched under Merlin's sturdy black combat boots, which were worn with age. He'd been in possession of them since secondary school, and had neglected to give up on that particular pair just yet. Coupled with a pair of dark jeans, a blood red scarf, and a beat up old brown jacket, which he had owned for ages as well, he made his way to the plot that held his long since deceased father.

His mother had chosen not to join him this year, as it had been too hard for her, with it being the ten year anniversary and all. He understood. There was no proper way to grieve, as he had learned over time. For some, the pain never vanished, but merely dulled. As he had only truly known his father for a year in his early twenties, owing to the fact that the man was a career military man who ran special ops for Her Majesty's Army, he truly never had a steady relationship with him. His melancholy resulted from the wish that he could have known him longer, and the loss of that opportunity, rather than being borne of having known him for years on end.

In the time that Balinor Emrys had returned home some eleven or so odd years ago to heal after a freak accident on another op mission, Merlin had gotten a glimpse of the sort of man he was, and what it would have been like to have him as a father. His parents, or so it had seemed to him, had still been insanely in love. Despite the little contact that either had with the other in the course of Balinor's military career, Hunith had remained faithful to him. Merlin had witnessed a side of his mother that he'd never seen before in the time that his father recovered in their home; that of a doting wife whom loved her husband unconditionally.

Balinor, as Merlin had determined then, was not wholly undeserving of the faith and love that his mother had put in him. Nor had his childhood idealizations fallen completely short either. Balinor had been just as pleased to see her as he was to see his only son, whom he had little experience with, but loved all the same. Merlin, who had seen glimpses of him occasionally in splurges throughout his life, had taken great joy in the time they had all had together that year. It was a brief time of peace in the otherwise turmoil filled life of Merlin Emrys, who always felt as if he never did enough for his mother after that. In his father's passing, he felt the weight of new responsibilities, despite her continued entreaties that there was no need.

Though she'd never admit to it, Hunith missed him greatly. She missed him so much that Merlin was shocked to witness her get out of bed every day with a smile on her face, as if everything was always as right as rain. The strength his mother had, he was the first to admit, was more than he had ever possessed, despite what she might have said about him otherwise. She was a doting mother of an only child, he surmised. He never fully believed he deserved her kind words, despite her insistence that he did.

When he made it to Balinor's plot, he bent down, and placed a hand on the stone as he would on his father's own shoulder if the man were still alive. Huffing out a long held breath, he tried to steady himself for the inevitable onslaught of emotions that always came with the visit. Over the years, he had gone through a wide range of feelings regarding the man's passing, and this year was no different. Gripping the grave marker, he inhaled again sharply, as if this would steady him somehow.

"Hello, father. Another year, and you're still not here. Mum sends her regards. This year was particularly hard for her. I wish you were here, because you'd know what to do for her. I feel as if somehow my surviving wasn't enough. She swears it was, but sometimes I wonder," he admitted starkly.

For a brief moment, he went silent. The weight of his voiced admission pained him, as he tried not to dwell on that niggling feeling that his mother would have rathered his father die than him. She would never say so, and had never treated him any differently after the sudden murder of his father either. It was just in the moments when he had returned home from work, and her eyes had gone to the door, there was a brief second after his boots had touched the hardwood floor where she would look at him with disappointment, as if she had hoped that for once it wasn't him who had entered their shared living space.

Exhaling, Merlin stood up, and placed the meager wood carving of a dragon he had done to honor his father in front of the simple tombstone. When a hand clapped him over the shoulder from behind, he jumped away from the touch until he saw the shocks of golden blond hair beside him, illuminated by the moonlight above. Rather than pulling away entirely, he leaned into the touch, one he had become accustomed to over the years.

The first time Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys had met, they were just eighteen years old. Both had come to visit their respective parents within the same cemetery. The only acknowledgement either had given to the other was a brief nod, before each of their only living parents had pulled them in the opposite directions towards their own vehicles.

The second time Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys had met, they were nineteen years old. Both had returned to visit their deceased parents, who just so happened to have perished on Halloween night, albeit years apart from each other. For Merlin at the time, it had only been a year since his father had died, whilst saving his life from a casual street mugger, that had attacked him outside of a haunted house. Tears had flown freely this second time, unlike the first, where he had kept his face drawn up in a mask, not daring to show his pain in front of a stranger within the cemetery. This time, Arthur had offered him a pack of tissues, then trailed his father out dutifully much like he had the year before.

The third time Arthur Pendragon and Merlin Emrys had come into contact with one another, they found each other accidentally at the bookstore of their coincidentally shared university. They awkwardly attempted to become friends then, but it had fallen flat months later, as they really had no common interests. The pair accepted this and moved on, forgoing contact for months on end.

The fourth time the two saw each other next, it was three years to the day that Balinor Emrys had died, and Merlin and Hunith both went out to his plot to visit with him. Arthur was in front of his mother's grave, unbeknownst to the other inhabitants of the cemetery, and he noticed Merlin immediately several rows away. A feeling deep within him urged him to say something. Bidding his mother goodbye solemnly, he stepped away to intercept the mother and son duo as they passed near Ygraine's row. After he had gone up to Hunith and introduced himself that night, he was invited over for dinner.

As Merlin and Arthur hardly had any classes together, they met up when they could, between studying for their separate degrees and Merlin's unpredictable work schedule. Soon, the two had become much closer than either thought possible. From that year on, they traveled to visit their parents in one vehicle.

Seven years of friendship, multiple jobs, and one University graduation later, the two had continued to maintain their steady friendship. Although they had other mates outside of each other, it was widely undisputed that they were the other's best friend. No one dared be as candid to one of the pair, as either would be to the other. Likewise, the two understood each other, at that point, almost more than they understood themselves. Neither held a consistent relationship for long, because anyone who attempted to get as close to either of them became sorely put out that they could never compete with what seemed to be between the two men. It had long been a talking point amongst their other closest friends and family, unbeknownst to either of them.

Breaking the silence, Arthur muttered bitterly, "Sometimes, more often than not, if I'm being honest, I believe my father wishes that I would have died at birth, rather than my mother."

Reaching across the slightly shorter man's back, Merlin squeezed in consolation.

"You heard all of that, did you?" Merlin responded, suddenly feeling just a bit more naked than any man should clad in layers upon layers of clothing.

"Every word," Arthur admitted, glancing over at Merlin.

The lanky man nodded as he dropped his gaze down to his father's headstone.

"It's hard sometimes, knowing that I could have prevented his death, but I failed. My Uncle Gaius calls it survivor's guilt, but it's his job to analyze people for a living, so I call it a piss poor excuse for the proper term for it."

Arthur stepped back from the tight embrace he had been held in, as if he had just been the one insulted. Merlin never spoke like that, at least not around him, despite their closeness. The first time the dark haired man had tried a few years before, Arthur had cut him off, never allowing him to continue.

"You don't really believe that, do you, Merlin?" Arthur asked, his stomach and fists clenched now.

Dark sapphire blue eyes flicked up towards Arthur, taking in the sudden rigid posture of his companion, he quirked up a slight smile, "Do you want the truth or a lie?"

Rather than waiting for a response, Merlin walked in the direction of the cemetery's exit, his hand delving into an inner jacket pocket to procure the cigarette pack he kept for occasions such as this. He rarely smoked, but every now and then indulged when he could afford it. Instead of allowing him to sulk though, Arthur was hot on his heels now. Merlin didn't act as if he knew that the blond with him was acting any differently, continuing on his way as if Arthur wasn't there at all.

When Merlin plucked the lighter out of his pocket, he felt a swift smack on the back of his head.

"If you think you're getting into my car with that bloody cancer stick, then you have another thing coming, mate," Arthur declared, his arms crossed tightly in front of him.

"If you're that sodding worried about it, then just leave. I'll walk home if I have to."

"Shut up, Merlin. Just stop it. Stop it now!"

"Stop what?"

Merlin exhaled his nicotine laced breath into the air, watching it twist and curl through the air, while acting as if he hadn't a clue what Arthur was on about.

"You know very well what I mean. Stop this self deprecating codswallop. Do you think that Balinor would want you to be acting like this, as if your life doesn't matter?"

Flicking the ash from his cigarette and taking another hit, he ignored Arthur, as if he wasn't even there. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. In under ten seconds flat, utilizing the training he had received during his time playing sports in Uni, Arthur pinned Merlin to the ground and wrestled the fag from him, then put it out on the pavement over Merlin's head, inches away from his face.

"What the fuck is your problem, Arthur?" Merlin puffed out angrily, as the two continued to grapple together angrily on the ground.

Somewhere in the distance, a gaggle of teenagers were acting like fools, running through the cemetery because it was Halloween. This deterred neither of them from continuing what they were doing.

"Trying to knock some sense into your idiotic brain, that's what," Arthur said in a strained voice, while he managed to pin Merlin under him.

"How would you know what my father would have wanted? You never even knew him!" Merlin screamed, realizing that he would never be able to get Arthur off of him if the man didn't want to be moved.

"No, but I do know your mother, and she thinks the world of you. She loves you so much that she thinks the sun shines out of your ass every damn day of the year. You're lucky that way, because at least she gives a hoot. I'm surprised if my father so much as glances my way on occasion. Usually when he does, it's to tell me how I'm fucking up my life, which includes the inordinate amount of time I enjoy spending with you. You have it so good, Merlin, and yet here you are, acting as if you think your life isn't meant for something more. You've done so much with your time so far, and you've made so many lives better, including mine. I have no doubt that once you stop allowing your mind to entertain this self pitying rubbish, that you will continue to do a hell of a lot more good for even more people around you. So, stop pretending that you don't give a damn, because I do, Merlin, and so would he if he were alive!" Arthur screamed, as Merlin listened to his words, without struggling so much as an inch beneath him now.

For a moment, they remained in steady silence after, the only noises around them being their breathing, cars on streets farther away than where they were, and the giggling of teenagers far behind them. Their staring contest continued, while the world around them did too.

After what felt like ages, Merlin relented, nodding and closing his eyes. Tears began pouring out of him in seconds, and he came to a point where he was hiccuping between heart wrenching sobs. Somewhere in the time shortly following his break in consistency, Arthur had wrapped himself 'round Merlin, rather than opting to hold him down still.

When the tears had ceased, Arthur purposefully wiped away the remainder of the droplets that had descended from the normally enigmatic blue eyes in front of him. Sighing into Arthur's chest, Merlin burrowed his head into it. For minutes on end, they laid on the gravel like this, undisturbed. It was only when the group of teenagers sounded as if they were getting closer, did the two men break apart, and pull each other to their feet.

After they had made their way back to Arthur's car, and Merlin had leaned against it, did he look at the blond again.

"You're right," Merlin said softly, as if he were lamenting the fact that he even had to utter those words.

"I generally am, aren't I?" Arthur responded, which garnered a quiet chuckle from his friend.

"I admitted you were right. There's no need to be such a smug prat about it," Merlin pointed out, throwing him a chastising glance.

"Fair enough," Arthur replied, holding his hands up in agreement.

Silence reigned supreme around them, for a time, as the two listened to the sounds of the night around them. Cocking his head, after multiple minutes later, Merlin looked over at Arthur appreciatively. Feeling the weight of the other man's gaze, the blond looked up, locking his eyes with the ones opposite of him. Raising an eyebrow, Merlin knew it was an unspoken question. They had been friends long enough to know most of each other's mannerisms by that point.

"Thank you," Merlin breathed out.

Arthur could have asked for what but he knew, without having to be told, what the other man meant.

"Anytime, Merlin. Out of all of the shit that has come from our parents dying, I consider us meeting a fairly decent consolation," the blond admitted, his eyes then darting over to Merlin a split second later.

A blinding smile had enveloped Merlin's features, making his eyes sparkle with happiness. Spying this, Arthur felt short of breath just by witnessing it up close. Perhaps, he thought, that was not how he should be thinking of his best mate. Before he had time to contemplate that further, Merlin was kinetic.

In an uncharacteristically bold move, Merlin strode across the distance between them, and found purchase for his hands quickly around Arthur's neck. Without second thoughts, Arthur responded in kind, using his hands and arms to anchor the other man even closer to him. Their breaths became shaky and shallow, as each of them reveled in the other's closeness.

Bright lights soon spilled over them however, which made them jump apart just a bit. Arthur remained close though, his body turned as if he was trying to shield Merlin from the oncoming car. When the lights dimmed, and the vehicle had come to a full stop, he noticed that it had lights atop it. Cursing, he waited impatiently for the bobby to exit the car.

A torch in one hand, the heavyset man that stepped out of his car eyed them warily.

"I got a call about a disturbance out here. That wouldn't happen to involve either of you two lads, would it?" he asked, still surveying them suspiciously.

"No, sir. We came here to visit our parents. That group of teenagers over there might know something about that though," Arthur said almost automatically, still making a conscious effort to keep Merlin mostly out of view as he pointed towards the bunch that had been a minute thorn in their side for the most of the night.

"Alright then. You boys should be on your way if you've got no other business here," he said, dismissing their presence from there on out.

As he trudged away towards the scattering lot of teenagers, they heard him mutter, "God, I hate working on Halloween."

When he was well out of hearing range, the two looked over at each other, and busted out laughing. Arthur threw his head back, as if he didn't have a care in the world, meanwhile Merlin chuckled quietly to himself, whilst he watched Arthur in the throes of an open throated laugh.

After a minute or so, the two calmed down, although the good cheer still had not fully subsided from their eyes. Reaching over tentatively, Arthur laced his fingers through Merlin's left hand. Happiness bubbled up in the thinner man's chest, as unbidden warmth spread through the former's.

"What do you say we pop over to mine for the remainder of the evening? You can make some popcorn, while I put on one of those crime shows you like to watch so much, and we'll call it a night."

A light blush coloured Merlin's cheeks when he noticed the sudden nervousness in Arthur's gaze. Squeezing the blond's hand lightly, Merlin leaned over and gave him a tentative peck on the cheek, just to make sure he understood the meaning. When the man opposite of him didn't pull away in disgust, he nuzzled his nose against Arthur's right cheek, muttering into his right ear a second later, "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

From behind them, before Arthur could respond, they became quickly aware that they were being watched.

"Oi, didn't I tell you two to bugger off?" the police man called out loudly from meters away.

Chuckling, the two quickly pulled apart from each other and hopped into the car that had remained behind them for a good couple of hours. As the elder man huffed back towards his own vehicle, Arthur and Merlin made a swift get away to the start of their own happy beginning.


End file.
